In the End of Eddy Louis tells the story of a troubled childhood in a village in the north of France. Eddy does not fit into the poor rural environment marked by racism, strict gender rules and overall violence. Through short vignettes which get more and more harrowing the reader witnesses Eddy’s futile attempts to change who he is: a queer and nerdy kid with ambitions to play theatre.
The book reminded me of Returning to Reims by Didier Eribon. It had a similar setting and both authors were struggling with their working class heritage. Eribon however approached this subject from a very distant perspective, taking into account what he has learned and studied about sociology and philosophy. Louis account of his experience is much more immediate, his strength lies in the unmediated observation of his family life and the village where he grew up. And through this selection of particular observations it becomes clear what Louis wants to convey to his readers, that the rigidity and hopelessness of life, not only in his home but also in society has left people deprived of a lot of very basic things like financial security, health care, proper nutrition and humane working conditions. The poverty is all encompassing and the mind-set of people is very much rigid with no wiggle room for anyone or anything that is “different”. People therefore are left with no other possibility as to rewrite their own story to fit their grim reality. They don’t want to be fancy and rich, they don’t need the doctor or healthy food and if you don’t work in a job that is slowly breaking down your body, you are lazy:
“I came to understand that many different modes of discourse intersected in my mother and spoke through her, that she was constantly torn between her shame at not having finished school and her pride that even so, as she would say, she’d made it through and had a bunch of beautiful kids, and that these two modes of discourse existed only in relation to each other.”
The community is entirely run by these unwritten rules and codes. I’m sure we are all shaped by where and how we live but reading this made me acutely aware of how I assume that my opinions and feelings are ‘my own’ when actually, I’m starting to realize, that there is no ‘independent self’, at least not to the extend that I want it to be.
Overall the book is a pretty difficult read, not because of the language used but because of its subject matter. Eddy goes through a lot in these merely 200 pages and more than once I thought I could not continue reading as it was very hard to take it.